Also at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47065192/chapters/119454607
The old tunnel that would have been the bypass to Route 66 was sealed tight – the doors that would have been closed for traffic management after rock slides still quite intact. It was obvious, though, that hey been opened recently.
Jack led them to one of the old mine entrances that pockmarked the stone wall around it. “Our entry was slowed by checking all the ingress points – only a few actually intersect the tunnel. Winston, we’re taking point. Do not separate, keep eyes on the other team, keep coms on.”
There were signs that the cavern was wired for electricity – but no signs of an ‘on’ switch. Winston switched on a set of personal flood lights, and Mercy followed suite – Mei followed soldier’s lead in staying dark. Stone gave way to floors of poured concrete and walls of corrugated steel – a maze of shipping containers, pretty well preserved by the dry air. Offices. Random ‘apartments’, of a sort. Random cubbies. Stashes that would need hours of work to access.
They emerged in a space that was wide enough to be a roadway, and the two teams allowed themselves a bit more room. Soldier raised his hand up, and both groups stopped to listen.
Somewhere there was a low rumble. Ventilation of some sort, equaling out pressure as the earth above them cooled in the night. Mercy tapped Mei’s shoulder – knowing what was coming, she nodded.
The was an alternate mode of the caduceus staff. Overrode something in the body’s natural safeguards. Mei skin tingled. But somehow she could swear she could see faster.
A scratching against concrete – a metallic whine. Soldier was tense. Ready to run at any provocation. Winston’s power plant was humming, a stone throw away. What else. Scratching among the shipping containers. Mice, some other tiny thing with claws. Bolts shifting in the ceiling supports above them. Oh. It was moving. Winston’s direction. She raised her blaster and fired an icy warning shot.
Soldier and Winston turned – the shot was not paticularly loud, but it was a distinctive sound. Soldier raised his rifle, shining it’s spotlight on the ceiling – and saw nothing obvious. But – no, wall. A thud, a twanging – a moment later Soldier’s spotlight was trying to follow Mei’s gaze.
“Mercy,” Mei whispered. Her voice sounded odd. to herself. “Would you have any joints that need cracking right now?”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
In the corner of her vision, she saw Mercy move her leg to a weird angle, and shudder – the woman tried to suppress a gasp of relief right after.
“Too close.” Mei took out her own flashlight, and followed the noise between two containers. Shining it in – maybe a handbredth’s space – there was something stuck in between them, oozing out on the far side… except she heard another snap of joints.
There was no good way in. She switched triggers on her blaster, and filled the gap with ice.
“It’s something.” she whispered into her radio, “I’m not sure what though. Let’s keep going.”
For the pauses they took – both teams made to the point Cole fell in short order. A sandy spot, by what looked more like properly built offices than the containers they had passed. A space wide enough to turn around a delivery semi truck. He had be drug a significant distance, but his scanner was found, apparently flung aside during the attack.
The ground was littered with both footprints – many different sizes, layered – but also handprints. No gloves, delicate. Pushing into the ground with obvious effort – though close enough to the dragging track that there would probably have been many more.
“DO NOT touch the hand prints, There may still be active reagent.” Mercy was crouched down, by one of the clearer samples of prints, scanning it, taking a sample of the dirt. “Mei? I need a sample to compare to. Other side of the road. No gloves. Bridge walk.”
“Now-? I mean, sure. With or without the tank?”
“Have you practiced with the tank?”
“No.”
“With,” Mercy glanced up at Soldier’s questioning and Winston’s slightly more anxious looks, “Just testing a theory,” and then to Mei, “We can weigh it all later.”
A safe, handprint-free distance from the original attack, Mei handed Mercy her gloves and tried to fold backwards over a tank that wasn’t meant for such subtleties. That is, she barely landed on her outstretched arms, rather than the tank – and had to keep putting a lot of work into pushing her chest forward to even give her hands space to move.
“Circle clockwise,” Mei did as instructed, keeping Mercy in the left edge of her mission, really wishing she’d taken off more than just her gloves.
“A little closer – now backwards, feet first.” She’d gotten this dispassionate tone while training, Mercy was already distracted. Halfway around, “Stop- Now pull it tight as you can-” Mei obliged, trying to fit her back to the canister like a inner tube to a tire rim, pawing up the dirt while she did so, “And… good. Done.”
The doctor scanned the path, as Mei righted herself, withe a few quick side twists to settle things for good measure.
“The better match is being drug backwards in a bridge, Alternating hands every few steps. I can get a height and weight out of this before we get back. ”
“We good, Doc?” Soldier 76 was keeping it short. If Winston was to have any chance to hear something, he had to.
She glanced around, “Everything I know to look for,” Mercy handed Mei her gloves back, and a moment later her blaster was put an on.”
“Let’s get everyone home. Back.”
No more encounters. Just the random creaks of cooling metal.
Brigitte greeted them at the Orca door, reporting all was well – she looked like she had been pacing the entire time they had been gone, as dusty ash her boots had gotten. Back and forth, between the ramp and Cole – who had fallen asleep. Wilhelm showed up a moment later – apparently, a barkeeper had come to complain about ‘driven off’ customers, and guilting Wilhelm into purchasing a keg.
The ramp was pulled up, but that wasn’t quite the end.
It was a few hours later when the Stacian authorities made it to the site, a bit before sunrise – going in slightly more informed that the Overwatch team had.
The most definitive proof of Talon involvement had been the attack – but, as hoped, Overwatch involvement alone had forcefully broken through enough red tape to justify emptying this place out. After sever rounds of debrief, the Orca was officially cleared to head back to Gibraltar.
It was almost 48 hours after leaving that the Orca came to rest on on it’s moorings. Those aboard slunk of in separate directions one by one, Mercy giving them the all clear – Cole in a chair, but one he pushed himself. The prognosis was he’d need a few days to flush whatever poison was his system. The “what” still was questioned.
After a few hours of silence, one of the interior panels of the Orca popped free of it’s moorings – clattering to the floor. A figure unfolded from the crevasse it covered, draping to the floor, popping bones and ligaments back into working order, glad to finally stand up straight for what felt the first time in days.
“No niños cries to bother,” Sombra tested her voice- but immediately made her way to the already raided emergency food stores. Her stomach had been tying itself in knots for hours with how empty it was – “But does it beat Economy Class? Eh.”
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